Were you supposed to act different around people who lived fancy lives? There wasn't a rule book for it as far as I could tell, yet sometimes people tend to think that fancy people needed you to be the fancy version of yourself, even though you've never been fancy in your life! 

What were the rules of going from never getting on a plane to suddenly riding in a private jet owned by a movie star? Were you supposed to act like it was normal even though nothing about the situation was? Acting calm felt like a lie. But gawking would probably make the movie star uncomfortable. 

These were my thoughts as I stared up at the gorgeous jet, trying to wrap my head around flying inside, alone with Luke for SIX HOURS. Taking a deep breath, I approached the jet. Luke ducked his head out of the side door of the jet, a look of surprise on his face. The wind blew wildly, tugging at the bottom of his white t shirt, showcasing a hint of his stomach. 

"Oh... hi."

I waved back. "Can I get a ride?" I called lamely over the howl of the wind.

"I take it you are the extra passenger Dustin asked for me to take along?" 

I nodded. "Yep!"

He gestured through the door behind him and vanished back through the door without a word. I moved to wheel my large suitcase towards the rickety set of stairs set against the base of the side door, but a voice stopped me on the first step. "Miss?" 

I turned to find a man in a suit gesturing towards my bag. "Allow me." 

The man took my bag, looking comical as he wheeled my beat up purple unicorn suitcase— that was missing a back wheel and screeched loudly in protest, the worn out, bright style clashing with his Armani suit— and vanished around the side of the jet. With one final look after the man, I braced myself and entered the jet. 

Thick dark leather lounge chairs filled the sides of the jet, tucked underneath the windows that gazed out across the airport. Red oak tables sat in between the lounge chairs that stood facing each other in sets of two by two. 

Halfway along one wall was a tan couch with plush pillows that sat staring at a mini bar across the aisle. Everything about the jet screamed opulence, including Luke Walker who had settled into a seat next to the window, fingers flipping through pages of a hardback book like flying thousands of feet through the air in a fancy hotel looking metal tube was completely normal. All he needed was a fireplace to suddenly pop out of the wall next to him and I could almost forget I was on a jet plane. It may as well have been a cozy cabin with wings. 

He didn't look up as I walked in, staring around the space, trying not to look utterly shocked. The plane was breathtaking... even if it was ridiculously fancy. 

"Not my plane," Luke said reading my mind, eyes on the pages of his book. 

I laughed, earning me a eyebrow raise. I gestured towards the side door I had just come through. "It literally has your name on it, Walker."

His eyes narrowed slightly as his gaze came up to meet mine. "Don't call me that." 

"What?"

"Walker."

"It's your name, isn't it."

"And your name is a little longer than Em isn't it. Yet you insist on it." His eyes burned, daring me to argue before dropping back to his book. "Offer me the same courtesy."

I settled down into a lounge chair, the loud leather making a noise that sounded far too much like a fart. An awkward silence settled through the cabin. 

"Um... That was the chair," I insisted. 

Luke glanced up, looking unconvinced, making my face burn. "I've never heard these chairs make such a sound."

"Suuuuure," I said trying to regain some semblance of control. 

He sighed, pushing to his feet. "I guess if I am going to be trapped in this metal container with you for six hours I should get myself a drink to help me forget whatever other... chair problems you end up having." 

I rolled my eyes. "Actors... so dramatic." 

He was quiet for a moment as he poured himself a drink, eyes on the task. "What made you miss the plane with the others?" 

Em paused, trying to decide how much to share and was surprised when honesty fell out of her mouth instead of a dodge or a taunt. "Family problem."

Luke stopped mid pour, his voice surprisingly gentle. "He okay?" 

I swallowed, looking away, his tone so surprising that it brought tears to my eyes. I blinked, staring out the window, hoping to find a shred of calm, of peace as I gazed outside. "Physically." The fight left my body as the image of Carter looking so torn up with guilt filled my mind. "Why is it that the best people are the hardest to protect?" 

I heard more pouring.

"My parents... have been gone a long time and don't seem to understand what that distance has done to my brother." I shrugged, trying to play off the hurt I felt. The injustice of it all. 

A drink suddenly filled my vision as Luke placed it on the oak table before me and took the seat across from mine, his fingers swirling his own glass. 

I shrugged again self–consciously. "Anyway, short answer. Family drama that lead to me running around trying to find someone to watch Carter, which only made him feel like a burden." I chanced a peek up at Luke as I plucked up the glass of ice water, gripping the cold glass like a lifeline. 

I felt silly, confiding in Luke when he could barely stand me. But maybe that's why it felt safe. He already judged me, hated me, was irritated by me. There was nothing to loose by sharing. No where to fall when you were already at the bottom of his thoughts. 

"Family is supposed to be better," Luke said, taking a long sip, eyes distant as he gazed out the window. "But they tend to disappoint us, hurt us, and expect us to love them anyway." His eyes grew sharp, hard with secrets just below the surface. "We don't choose them but are expected to pick them even when it isn't healthy. Boundaries are just suggestions, meant to be used on those outside of our family circle, even when boundaries are needed for them the most." 

He scoffed, an unreadable emotion crossing his brow. "They see you at your most vulnerable and tend to use it against you. It's like handing someone a knife and asking them not to stab you with it." He blinked, seeming surprised by his own words. 

I held my breath, torn between understanding and shock. I had heard rumors through the gossip channels that Luke's family did not approve of his choice to go into acting instead of becoming a lawyer which his family legacy demanded, but the level of venom and hurt in his voice only confirmed how utterly complicated his family relationships were. 

"But siblings..." he said with a soft smile. "When they go through a system like that with you, it can create a strong bond."

His dark eyes found mine again. "I can see that with you and Carter." 

"Andrew loves you too," I said quietly. "You should have seen him when he heard you were in the hospital. Nearly crashed the car." 

Luke smirked. "Sounds like him."

The jet plane suddenly moved forward, heading towards the runway. Luke's free hand gripped the arm of his lounge chair, eyes darting to the window. He downed his drink in one quick move and kept his eyes on the window during the entire takeoff, eyes focused on the task like the sheer force of his gaze would lift us into the air safely. 

As the jet roared up into the sky, a large hum filled the room and suddenly, the roof of the jet began to change and soon, the top completely vanished, replaced by sky. It took me a moment to process what was happening and when I did, I laughed, eyes wide, shocked. The celing of the plane was made of glass, blue and cloud washed past, overwhelming and beautiful and magical all in a single moment. 

I quickly pulled myself together, my laughter cutting off as I tried to look unimpressed. Luke laughed, the sound bright, lighting up his whole face like the sunrise washing across a sleeping city in the early morning. Strong and golden and utterly breathtaking. His laugh turned into a cough as he fought a smile, hiding his face behind his now empty drink glass. 

Once the jet was level, Luke stood to his feet, and stiffly began to pour himself another drink, brow furrowed in concentration. 

"You're afraid of flying," I blurted before thinking better of it. The reality of it was so obvious that I was surprised it took me so long to connect the dots. His eyes on the window as we took off, the way he tried to calm himself with a drink before we went up into the air, how his strong fingers gripped the lounge chair like a cat trying to fight off taking a bath.

Luke tensed at my words but didn't deny it. 

"Is that why you fly separately?" I couldn't seem to turn off the research part of my brain, painting out new details of Luke that I hadn't seen before.

"I don't enjoy being trapped in a coffin in the sky," Luke said sitting back down across from me. He pulled out his book again, but kept it closed in his lap. "I've learned that traveling with others requires me to be rude in order to keep my calming routine in place. They insist on talking, and after a while, I got tired of coming across as a jerk because people wouldn't respect my boundaries." 

I nodded. "Perks of fame?" I guessed. 

He nodded, fingers gripping his glass tightly. I gestured towards his book. "Do what you have to do." 

I pulled out a worn copy of "The Bermuda Triangle: Atlantis is Real," my favorite conspiracy theory book, a comfort read I fell into every time I had a chance, craving the opportunity to one day chase after conspiracy theories with my own podcast, instead of chasing after people's secrets. 

Luke offered me a grateful nod before glancing at the cover of my book, his brows going up. My eyes instinctively dropped to his book, ready to judge him the way he was no doubt about to judge me. My mouth fell open at the title of the book he was reading. Big Foot: He's Real, Just Shy.

A slow smile crossed my lips. I was tempted to jump into a nerd filled conversation about conspiracy theories, shocked that Luke and I had something else in common, excited by the possibility that someone else out there was passionate about the same weird stuff I loved. 

But I kept my promise, leaving him be, and instead offered him my own eyebrow raise before I left him alone, curious as to what else made up Luke Walker. What other secrets this man held, and why everything I learned about him so far, made it impossible to hate him. 

...

Luke was quiet, focused on staying calm for most of the flight. Everything was silent. He ate in silence, read in silence, and stared out the window in silence. It wasn't until we landed, that life seemed to come back to him, his body melting into the lounge chair, relaxed for the first time in six hours. 

"Bermuda Triangle?" he asked, like the pause button on his life had come to an end.

"Big Foot?" I replied. 

He shrugged, eyes glinting. "I find conspiracy theories fascinating. There is something about... the hard to understand, the challenge that makes you want to hunt for answers."

The words were far too sexy coming out of his mouth. Like an Nerd Indiana Jones, an apparent new weakness of mine. But before I could add anything of my own, the side door opened, and Dustin himself popped his head inside, standing at the top of the ladder. A blast of cool rich humid air followed his arrival.

"Oh good! You are both here. And haven't killed each other! Progress!" He gestured out at the sunshine behind him. "We are a bit behind schedule today," so we are going to have to do the CPR scene today instead of tomorrow." 

Dustin smiled widely. "So shove some mints into your mouths, get changed and get ready for some steamy CPR." 

Then Dustin ducked back out of the plane like he hadn't just declared that the most awkward make out session was about to take place. 

Luke glanced in my direction, looking strangely unfazed as he moved towards the door. "Well come on Bermuda, time to embrace the awkward."

---

Thank you for reading chapter eighteen! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes!

UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!

It looks like Luke is a not so secret nerd! What else do you think Luke is a nerd about?

We have seen hints of Luke's family drama. How will that come into play in the story?

How will Luke and Em's CPR scene go?

What will happen next?

CHAPTER QUESTION - Are you afraid of flying? Have you ever flown before? How did it go?